


a knife could never cut so deep

by MoraMew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Arguing, Drinking, Knives, M/M, Mercenaries, Nudity, Vigilantism, fractured partnership, running into your former partner on a mission and it uhhhhh fucking sucks, vague allusions to meta!Suga with super strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24942448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: “I don’t deal withcriminals,” Daichi snaps, not able to help himself. It comes with the heat of old arguments- countless nights spent fighting with his former partner over the same thing over and over again. “Youknowthat.”The scorn doubles down on Suga’s face and he turns away from Daichi again, back rigid.“Oh, I know,” Suga tosses over his shoulder coolly. “You’reabovethat.” His fists clench at his side right as Daichi’s does and Daichi grits his teeth as Suga begins to walk away. “You’re aboveme.”
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	a knife could never cut so deep

**Author's Note:**

> a wip that i finished up from a long discarded au
> 
> sorry for the angst, i guess

Daichi had honestly never expected to see Suga again.   
  
Not after high school. Not after college. Not after the _incident_.   
  
But, Suga _is_ here and he’s nearly nude- a sheer swath of lavender cloth cascading from a silver bell laden belt being the only thing keeping him from being _completely_ nude. Daichi can still see _everything_ , though, and that makes it almost worse- he can see clearly but he can’t see fully- without restriction- and the outline of a cock he had jerked off to in guilt ridden frustration back in school has his throat going dry.   
  
The oil making pale skin gleam doesn’t help matters. Nor do swollen lips and fiery eyes.   
  
Regretfully enough, the blood splattered across his former best friend’s face doesn’t help tame his sudden, intense, _horrid_ resurgence of attraction either.   
  
This mission has not gone as planned. It’s fucked now and Daichi is fucked along with it.   
  
“Do you know how _long_ I’ve been working on this?” Suga hisses out- angry and still clutching the candlestick he had used to stab the target in the neck with. “You _left_ and now you’ve only come back to _ruin_ \- AGH!”   
  
He throws the candlestick then and it sticks into the wall- cracks beautiful varnish and cracks the air like thunder. Suga is on his feet in a moment, stomping over and shoving his finger into Daichi’s chest- teeth bared and fury twisting his face into something beautiful and terrifying.   
  
“I have been undercover and schmoozing this _asshole_ for a _year and a half_ and _you_ made me _kill_ him before I could even get what I _wanted_ ,” Suga spits out, fury getting dashed with familiar petulance. Daichi’s dick is still half-hard and he’s still too blown off course to respond. “I had him in the palm of my hand and _you_ had to come in here and _mess it all up_ and-”   
  
Suga cuts himself off with a frustrated noise and pounds his fist against Daichi’s chest- _hard_. It hurts and Daichi thinks maybe he's fractured a rib, but Daichi’s too busy watching pain and frustration float up past anger- too busy dealing with his heart beating in overtime.   
  
He didn’t expect Suga. Suga didn’t expect him. The mission is ruined and Daichi doesn’t care- can only stare at the former hero turned sometimes good, sometimes bad mercenary.   
  
He didn’t realize how much he had missed Suga.   
  
It hurts all of a sudden, his heart.   
  
“Koushi,” he says- quiet and bewildered. It’s the first thing he’s managed to get out since stumbling into this room and a part of himself hates how weak it sounds.   
  
Suga glares at him, cheeks turning red with frustration. He shoves Daichi away from him with an angry little noise and rakes his hand through his hair, settles it on his hip after.   
  
(And, god, what hips. Daichi’s memories did _not_ do them justice.)   
  
“You _owe_ me, Sawamura,” Suga huffs out, turning away suddenly. Nimble fingers move along the belt and then it drops onto the floor- reveals smooth skin and an ass that has Daichi feeling weak. “I worked my _ass_ off for this and I _still_ need that information.”   
  
He walks over to a dresser and pulls out clothes, starts pulling them on roughly. Every movement screams irritation and discomfort and Daichi gets a dual whiplash of guilt and annoyance running through him.   
  
It’s not like he _meant_ to mess things up for Suga.   
  
“I didn’t know you were here,” Daichi speaks up, voice just heated enough not to be completely level. “It wasn’t on purpose- I had my own mission.”   
  
Suga turns around and he’s scoffing now- arms crossed and eyes narrowed.   
  
“Right. You were trying to  _ save the day _ ,” Suga says, voice scornful and coming with a click of his tongue. “And I was trying to rearrange power in the underworld- something that would have helped _you_.”   
  
“I don’t deal with _criminals_ ,” Daichi snaps, not able to help himself. It comes with the heat of old arguments- countless nights spent fighting with his former partner over the same thing over and over again. “You _know_ that.”   
  
The scorn doubles down on Suga’s face and he turns away from Daichi again, back rigid.   
  
“Oh, I know,” Suga tosses over his shoulder coolly. “You’re _above_ that.” His fists clench at his side right as Daichi’s does and Daichi grits his teeth as Suga begins to walk away. “You’re above _me_.”   
  
“Koushi-”   
  
He’s gone. Gone before Daichi can stop him. Gone before Daichi can explain or fight with him or apologize or do any of the thousand impulses running through him.   
  
Frustration makes Daichi throw a vase at the wall and it splinters into a thousand pieces right before the security alarms go off.   
  
_Fuck_. This missions _sucks_.   
  


* * *

  
Back at the hotel, he’s angry. Angry and guilt ridden and twisted up with irritation and sadness and tired, well treaded thoughts of _what if?_   
  
He tries to shake it off by updating his mission files, by pouring over the influx of information his partner sends. He tries to focus on the job. The job is important. The job is what matters. It’s the _only_ thing that matters.   
  
That’s what he told Suga so long ago.   
  
Frustration has Daichi growling to himself and he scrubs at his face with his hands- rough enough that he sees spots once he takes it away. He gives in once his vision clears and reaches for a bottle of whiskey, pours himself a glass.   
  
It burns when it goes down, but years of practice keeps Daichi from flinching or grimacing.   
  
He drinks it and then drinks another. And then another.   
  
After the third, he tells himself he needs to stop. He’ll make stupid decisions if he drinks more, will give into impulse and let his mind run a bit too wild.   
  
He can’t do that- not tonight. Not when his mind has such fresh fodder and temptation, not when Suga is searing through his mind like a demon.   
  
Fuck, _Suga_. Why- _why_ \- was he there? What information was he getting? What was his cover? Why had he been wearing _that_ in _bed_ with that- that-   
  
A frustrated noise leaves him and Daichi slams his glass down hard enough to make droplets of booze jump out and splatter onto the desk. He huffs at it and stands from the desk, pushes away from it with enough force to make the chair threaten to fall backwards.   
  
He’s getting too caught up in his emotions. He’s getting too close to recklessness.   
  
Not that he would even know what to _do_ with it.   
  
A sigh leaves Daichi and he starts to calm a little, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to try to get it to wash over him.   
  
It works until he’s shoved against the wall and his adrenaline is spiked up mile high again.   
  
Daichi struggles- body acting on instinct- and he bucks back only to get turned around and slammed back against the wall. The first thing he sees is copper eyes and he’s startled by it- startled and then angry, somehow even _pleased_ deep, deep, _deep_ down inside.   
  
Copper eyes. Bruised lips twisted into a snarl. Hair a mess and mania all over a pretty face.   
  
Shit, this is _not_ supposed to happen.   
  
Whatever _this_ is.   
  
“ _Why did you have to come back?_ ”   
  
Oh.   
  
The smell of vodka fans over his face and Daichi scrunches up his nose, not able to help it. Suga shoves him back more roughly against the wall and Daichi’s heart speeds up, jumps into his throat as his breathing goes just a bit shallow.   
  
“I was doing _so good_ without you in my life,” Suga whispers, rough and harsh. “Without you and your _morals_ and your high horse _bullshit_.”   
  
“Koushi-”   
  
“ _Shut up!_ ”   
  
It stings, getting yelled at by Suga. It stings and so does the hurt in Suga’s eyes. Stings when Suga suddenly bites into his lips too, but that’s a good sting- a sting that makes Daichi almost groan.   
  
“I fucking hate you,” Suga hisses against him, fingers curling against Daichi’s chest and scratching. “ _Hate_ you.”   
  
The edges of the words are broken, though, and Suga beats on Daichi’s chest like he had done in the bedroom. This time it’s weaker, though, and this time Suga leans against him- forehead resting on Daichi’s shoulder and fist pounding against him.   
  
“ _Koushi_ ,” Daichi whispers, eyes closed. “Koushi…”   
  
It’s too much having Suga against him like this. It’s been so long and he’s so _warm_ \- so _real_.   
  
Daichi’s missed him so much.   
  
“Shut up,” Suga snaps- weak like the fist that thumps against him once more. “Shut.  _ Up _ .”   
  
Daichi opens his mouth, unable to obey, and then there is a knife to his throat, then there is bloodshot, wet, beautiful and _heartbreaking_ eyes glaring at him.   
  
“Leave,” Suga orders, voice coming out hoarse. Daichi swallows and feels the knife nick his throat, curls his fingers into fists as regret and hurt rip through him. “Leave, Daichi. Don’t come back here. Don’t come near me again.”   
  
“I didn’t know you-”   
  
“I don’t care!”   
  
The outburst has Suga’s eyes flaring up in anger, his cheeks flushing in frustration. He’s so gorgeous and Daichi hates this, hates himself, hates that they’ve been torn so far apart.   
  
“You left,” Suga grits out, voice choked but his hand steady. “You _left_. You left me behind all for the sake of your _bullshit_ morals and _honor_.”   
  
Daichi winces and he feels anger, regret, bitter stubbornness flow through him.   
  
As hard as it has been without Suga, he can’t take back his decision. He can’t say that it was wrong.   
  
It _hurts_ , but it had been the _right_ thing to do.   
  
“You went too far,” Daichi tells him- voice low and threatening to shake with his own upset. He swallows and the knife nicks him again, Suga’s lashes grow wet and anger twists a pretty face that much darker.   
  
Suga scoffs and that hurts more than a snap, than a yell. Some part of him wants Suga to yell at him and that’s maybe a little sick, definitely stupid.   
  
“I went as far as I had to,” Suga says, words coming out cool as ice. “ _You_ never went far enough.”   
  
Suga steps away from him and Daichi’s heart sinks, his fists clench tighter as he feels his world begin to crumble again.   
  
“You’re a coward, Daichi Sawamura,” Suga tells him, low and cold and cutting sharper than any knife. “And I’m better off without you.”   
  
Suga walks over to the window he had used to break into the room and he hitches a leg over the sill- back rigid and fingers cracking the window frame when he grabs onto it.   
  
“Don’t follow me. And don’t come near me ever again.”   
  
“Koushi-”   
  
Suga climbs out the window and he throws himself out into the night sky, shoots out a zip-line and flies out of Daichi’s life once more.   
  
Daichi stares and he stares and stares and, eventually, he goes over to the window and shuts it once more.   
  
He could go after Suga. He should have. He _wants_ to.   
  
But...it’s like Suga said- he’s a coward.   
  
A fucking _pathetic_ coward.   
  
Throat clenching and eyes stinging, Daichi turns from the window and walks back to the desk in tight, controlled movements. He sits down, throws back a too big gulp of whiskey, and places his hands to his keyboard.   
  
He can’t think about Suga. He can’t think about going after him. He can’t think about apologizing or reconciliation or the pain in his chest or the ways tears are threatening to slip down his cheeks.   
  
He can’t think about it.   
  
He can’t think about Suga.   
  
It’s the job that he needs to concentrate on- the job is the only thing that matters.   
  
That’s what he tells himself, and he hates himself for the lie.   
  
Swallowing back his regret and frustration, Daichi focuses his attention on the laptop screen and begins to look over the notes for his next mission.   


**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't going to finish this, but it's been languishing in my WIP pile for a while now
> 
> this au has been abandoned for a long while now- i don't think i'll write more for it.
> 
> i just wanted to get this finished


End file.
